In three days I will be eleven years old. When I turned six, we went to the Plaza Hotel. Mommy and Daddy saved up for a long time to do that. Then we went on a carriage ride through the park, and I got a pair of beautiful ballet slippers.
I outgrew the slippers almost right away. We haven’t been able to buy anything since. This year, all I want is a cake big enough so everyone in the family can have a big slice. And Gracie can come over and have one too.
(That’s not true. Here is what I really want:

There’s no money for new toys right now. Mommy says maybe soon, when President Roosevelt finishes his New Deal and the Banks have been back from their vacation for longer. I don’t know why if our Bank takes a trip it helps me get a Little Orphan Annie doll, but now that’s what I’m praying for.)